Eulogy
by Katowisp
Summary: The Prince is dead. Long live the Prince.


Eulogy

Author: Katowisp (K.Firefly)

Disclaimer: Avatar is not mine. But I wish Zuko was!

The prince is dead. Long live the prince.

Mornings and evenings were the busiest, although they had their fair amount of afternoon customers. No, Zuko realized, there really was no point during which their teashop wasn't incredibly busy: just slight lulls between rushes.

And so it was a surprised Zuko that sat in an empty teashop, devoid of even his uncle. Zuko waited at the bar for a moment, and when nobody was forthcoming, he heated his own pot of tea and sat down at one of the plain tables. Encircling the small porcelain cup with his hands, he waited. 

Minutes passed into hours. No one entered, and the sun never set. Early morning light filtered in through the doors and small windows, casting bright pools on the worn floors. The sounds of the street floated in and sometimes the old teahouse settled around him and he was reminded of his uncle and how his bones creaked on cold mornings. 

Cleaning the pot and setting out to dry, he noticed a pai shou piece tucked behind the set's matching cup. Closer observation revealed the lotus tile. Zuko furrowed his brow and shoved it into his pocket. After glancing around the empty building and finding nothing there for him, he left.

Zuko was greeted by the cheerful singsong of street vendors setting up their wares and food. The shop fronts were open to the street, beckoning visitors to come inside. Zuko wandered the street, relaxing in a way he had never been able to before. He was filled with a strange peace. He did not know why, but he was certain he no longer had to fear being discovered anymore, and was free to walk the streets of Ba Sing Se without concern. He took his time meandering in and out of the shops and enjoying the local foods. Zuko wasn't much for sweets but there was a persimmon cake he couldn't get enough of.

After a morning of shopping and eating, Zuko found he was once more getting frustrated with the lack of action. Kicking at a pebble on the cobblestone street, Zuko paused on a bridge and gazed down at the water. An unmarred face gazed back and Zuko gasped, a hand automatically reaching for his familiar scar and finding the puckered skin gone. Zuko stared into the water a long time. Footsteps behind him made him start. He turned rapidly, instinctively throwing his hands up defensively only to stop short in surprise.

"Cousin?"

"Zuko," Uncle Iroh's son said affectionately. He pulled him into a hug, wrapping his cousin in his arms. "It is good to see you." Lu Ten was dressed not in armor, but in the palace wear Zuko remembered him last in. He looked at peace, a slight smile on his face. 

"You're younger than I remember." The words spilled from his lips, and he scowled. 

"You're simply older and I've remained the same," Lu Ten said affectionately, pressing a hand down on Zuko's head. Zuko grimaced, rapidly pulling away.

"Don't do that!" Lu Ten laughed.

"But much the same as always, I see! Come; tell me of my father and the war. It has been too long and I miss him much. I have seen our grandfather—has my father ascended or is he still leading the sieges? He's never been one much for paperwork, but he is older now and it would be better for him!" Lu ten chattered happily, his hands behind his back as he strolled back down the street.

"Ah," Zuko began uneasily. "Not exactly. Uh, so, where exactly is this?" Zuko asked, awkwardly changing the subject. Lu Ten glanced at him but let it pass.

"Ba Sing Se. Everyone comes here sooner or later. Later, if the fates smiled at them." Lu Ten motioned to the entrance to the teashop. Zuko pushed open the door and found the teapot and two already filled cups that he had used earlier on the center of a table. Lu Ten gratefully took the cup and considered his cousin. "Oh—you haven't realized it yet!" Lu Ten said.

"What?" 

"Why, Cousin—you're dead."

"What!" Zuko sputtered, he nearly dropped his cup and winced as scalding tea splashed onto him. "You're kidding!" Zuko said.

"Why do you think you're here? And with me?"

"That's just---I mean, Uncle and I work here! And you—" Zuko fumbled for words, "—You just—I don't know!" Zuko stood up heatedly. "I don't believe you! This is just…a dream! I am going to wake up now!" And Zuko concentrated very hard, trying to will himself awake. His cousin gave him a bemused look. Zuko slumped back into the chair, defeat slowly taking hold. Regret swelled within him as he realized it only made sense. 

"Yes. This is just…where we wait until it's time for us to continue on and return to our nation and continue the cycle." Lu Ten reached over and filled Zuko's teacup again.

"Why haven't you passed on?" Zuko asked dully. Firebenders believed they were much like the phoenix and after they died, they would be born again as firebenders. A fire bender was _always_ a firebender. 

"Someone has to wait for our irresponsible family, don't they?" Lu Ten sipped his tea, and Zuko was struck by the uncanny resemblance to Uncle Iroh's own tea habits. He had never realized how much his cousin had unconsciously picked up from his father. Zuko stared at his tea uneasily and hoped that he, too, drew more from Iroh than from his own father. Lu Ten considered him. "The last few years have made you moody."

"A lot has happened!" Zuko said defensively, standing up again. "Just tell me how to get out of here! I don't want to be here anymore!"

"So leave," Lu Ten said, not unkindly as he disappeared. Zuko was just processing his missing cousin when dragons exploded through the door. The teahouse crashed around him and Zuko gasped, falling back as the heat seared him. He had not yet mastered the skills the dragons had given him and he fell back to the floor, one arm throwing up over his head to protect him. These were not the dragons he had met before— there were darker intentions from them and Zuko found he was afraid.

"Little human!" One cried, more in his soul than out loud. Zuko shuddered, but straightened, appearing to show as much courage as he could. _This_ was fine, _this_ he understood. Being a firebender was not easy and undoubtedly, the road back would not be easy either.

"I am prepared! Take me back!" Zuko yelled into the chaotic swirl of fire and dragons. He stood with his legs apart, balancing himself, his fists clenched at his sides. 

"You have never been prepared! And until you are, you can never go home!"

"Home? But I don't—"

But the dragons were gone, and Zuko was alone again, this time on the docks of the Fire Nation capital city. The docks were busy with their daily commerce and the air was loud with shouted commands and the movement of equipment. The water lapped at the rocks of the embankment and the sharply angled ships bobbed, pulling gently at their tethers. The last time he had stood here was when his uncle had bought a ship for them to begin their journey. Zuko sighed and sunk onto a turned barrel, wishing, not for the first time, that his uncle were here. He kicked his legs against the wood, still overwhelmed by the news of his death.

It was early morning still, but there was a gathering storm on the horizon and Zuko watched as the dockworkers hastily finished loading equipment and settling in for what was to be a stormy day. Morning storms promised to be bad, and no sailor wanted to be caught in one. 

Once he could feel the electricity in the air, Zuko decided to find safe haven as well. He wandered from tavern to tavern.

"Sorry, there's no space for you here," The first bar tender told him, face impassive. Zuko frowned but shrugged.

"We're all filled up." Every tavern owner promised down the dock, until the last one Zuko poked his head into was clearly empty save for a hunched figure at the bar. Zuko felt his heart lift—the storm was not far off and he didn't want to be outside when it hit.

"No space."

"What!" Zuko asked, enraged. He stepped into the empty tavern, instantly summoning fire. "Do you know who I am?" The man continued polishing a dirty baijou glass, looking unimpressed. 

"A rich kid in the wrong place, I'd say."

Zuko, tired of being rejected, threw a fire attack at the owner. The man calmly held the glass up and managed to catch the fire. Zuko watched in amazement as it fizzled into nothing. Scowling, he punched another, and then a kick, the flames true in their path. However, the bartender caught each attack in his glass. After Zuko's combination of fire attacks was done, and he had clearly done no damage, the man scowled at him. 

"Are you trying to damage my bar? Get out of here!" The man swung his hand holding the cup around and fire flowed from it. Zuko quickly escaped back onto the docks, stumbling as his foot caught an uneven plank.

"Where _am_ I?" When he was young, his mother had told him that he should always be good because bad firebenders never returned to the world, but were cursed to wander the places they'd gone in life, haunted by the evil things they'd done. That's why; she had said, it was important to never ever follow the dancing flames that could be found in fields or in the forest. They were the souls of those that were cursed to wander forever, and their only joy to be gotten in their miserable existence was to lead travelers to their doom.

Zuko wondered if he was indeed one of the bad ones, and would one day soon resort to a flame, wandering the ocean again as he'd done in life. The thought startled him. He found an overhang and curled in under it. The docks were now empty, and cheerful voices and music could be heard floating out from the taverns. 

The storm came fast and hard, the waves quickly growing over the seawall. Just as Zuko was considering higher ground, he noticed faces in the crest of the waves. His family, dark and menacing, and those of his mother and his uncle, gentle but confused. And then there was the avatar and his team, their expressions innocent and naïve. Zuko scowled at them.

"Zuko," his mother spoke from the waves. She grew larger in the pounding, black water and disappeared with each successive wave as it crashed in. 

"Mother?" Zuko stood, surprised. He wiped the water from his hair and blinked. He was afraid that her being here meant that she, too, was dead. She smiled briefly and her wave crashed over the sea wall, exploding over in an eruption of white foam. Zuko took a step towards her and watched as she ascended against the trough of the next wave.

"It has been too long. They come for you."

"Mother---!"

"The choices you have made, my son…"

"Mother, I have done wrong things but I didn't think I was evil! I don't want to wander the world as a flame!" Zuko felt all of six again, the fears and needs of a child overwhelming him. He knew safety could be found in his mother's arms. He crossed the boardwalk and held his arms open to her, the way he had done thousands of times before in the dreams where they had met again. He saw sadness in her water-blue eyes, and then she crashed over him, dragging him into the sea.

0o000o0o0o0o

Zuko punched his hand through the ice and he tried to find a grip on the ice sheet. Finally a hand reached out and grabbed his, hauling him up and out. Zuko lay on the ice, panting and frozen. He wrapped his arms around himself, futilely working to fuel his body with internal heat. Shivering uncontrollably, he stared miserably up at his rescuer. Calm blue eyes looked back at him. He did not recognize the woman, but his brain processed the familiar necklace around her neck. "Y…you!"

"Have some tea." She pushed a cup into his hands and as the warm porcelain touched his skin, his shivering ceased and he was warm again. His muscles eased, allowing him to sit up. He looked at her in confusion. Observing closely, he could see resemblance in this woman and the feisty young water bender he has so recently taken up arms with.

"This is my uncle's favorite tea."

"It's oolong, made from buds from the highlands of the earth kingdom."

"Oh." His uncle had probably told him that, but Zuko had never cared enough to listen. Zuko picked at his tunic uncomfortably. There were a lot of things in life he should have paid more attention to. He looked out over the expanse of ice fields. The only interruption in the landscape was the woman's tribe nearly a kilometer away. "I don't want to become a gwei-hou," he said desperately. Surely this woman with her kind eyes would help him. "I didn't mean to hurt your daughter!"

"You only meant to hurt yourself. You are safe here, for now. It takes time for the fire to cross the ocean." Her blue eyes became distant, and looked out over the blue expanse. Zuko had never noticed before, but this icy world seemed to go on forever.

"But it will come," Zuko said with certainty. 

"_You_ did, after all," she said. Zuko could not tell if there was any animosity in her voice. 

"What will I do then?"

"You will run," she said simply. Zuko scowled.

"I won't."

But that night, when the flames could be seen in the distance, dancing over the water in what seemed to be cheerful persistence but was, Zuko knew, pure menace, he realized he had lied to the woman that morning. 

And he ran.

The ice fields stretched out far before him, but he knew they would run out sooner or later. And then, he would swim. He wasn't a great swimmer, but how could a dead man drown?

The snow kicked up behind him and his footing was uncertain. How long could he run? He would grow tired of it, but he knew he would never stop being chased. The moon was high in the sky, lighting his way well. Before him stretched the silver fields, and behind him was the fire. 

He could fight. It was only fire, after all. He had mastered it, finally as a child, and not long ago with the dragons, and he could do it again. He could do it now.

The ice melted into a forest, and still he ran. The trees comforted him—they blocked his enemy from view. His breath burned in his chest and he thought it unfair to feel such things, even in death. The ground below him became slushy and uncertain. And still he ran, into the bowels of a swamp until he felt he was safe from the chasing fire. He slowed his step, each foot fall a wet _thuck_ as he pulled it from the mud. His breath was ragged in his chest and finally, he allowed himself to curl up in the root of a massive tree.

Zuko has just about nodded off into sleep when the crack of a stick pulled him from his exhaustion. He looked up to see Lu Ten running over the swampy grounds; now in the armor Zuko had seen him march off to war in. His chest was caved in from where an earthbender had caught it with a bolder. Half his face had been nearly ripped off; parts of his skull poking through the shredded flesh of his cheek and jaw. Zuko quickly scrambled to a standing position, inadvertently vomiting. "Wh—what?" Zuko gasped.

"Quickly, we must go!"

"What?"

"They have surrounded you while you were sleeping but I think I know of a way to get you out of here," Lu Ten said, grabbing Zuko's wrist and dragging him forward. Zuko stumbled behind him and felt his lips go dry.

"But we're in a swamp! Everything's wet here!"

"That doesn't stop them, Zuko!"

"So how do we get out?" Zuko asked, fear and irritability swelling within him.

"We swim."

As they ran, Zuko could catch glimpses of flame out of the corner of his eyes. They seemed to be moving closer, except when Zuko looked at them deliberately they moved away again. Zuko was worried that they would be able to sneak up on him when he was looking and _how could you stop an enemy you couldn't see_? Panic welled up in his chest, and he was about to say something when his cousin yanked harder on his arm

"Hold you breath!"

And for the second time since Zuko's death, he was plunged into water. He couldn't see more than a few inches ahead of him, his world a murky brown and green and Zuko was three, being held by his father. They stood together at the side of the palace pond. Zuko enjoyed the water and feeding the ducks with his mother. But then he was in the air, and water enveloped him. He paddled furiously, trying to stay afloat. Tears and panic welled up in him and where was his mother? And he didn't know how to swim! And why would his father do that?

"Learn, Zuko. Three-fourths of the world is covered in water, and it is the element most opposed to ours. You will fight it all your life, and that fight begins now," His father calmly explained, hands clasped behind his back. Zuko struggled to stay afloat, but he was only three and his energy gave out. Just as he went under, he felt himself pulled upward and out, suddenly clutched tightly in the soft arms of his mother. Her eyes were furious. Drenched, she pulled herself from the water and silently led Zuko away from the water.

Lu Ten pulled him free, and he could breathe again. Zuko opened his eyes and found himself back in the Fire Nation palace's pond, surrounded by the gwei-hou. He stood in the middle of the pond, uncertain of his next move.

"Lu Ten?" He turned to his cousin, anger creeping up in him. But his cousin was gone again, and Zuko stood alone. Zuko looked once around the pond, grit his teeth, squared his shoulders and fell into a defensive position.

This time, he would stay and fight. 

End!

Things tons to my beta-readers, khushiyan and Mecurial Phoenix. Any resulting mistakes are entirely my own!

Possibly with a sequel?

Seriously, I have more planned for this, but I wanted to make it so it could stand alone, too! Further chapters will answer things like: Is Zuko really dead? Can he come back? This is my first Avatar fic, so I hope you all enjoy.

gwei-hou is the Chinese version of will'o'the'wisps also known as foxfire. I was pulling more on the European legends—of the fire being slightly malicious and leading travelers astray. However, I took it a step further. I think it's appropriate for 'evil' firebenders to be doomed to wander the world as flames.

Baijou is a terrible, TERRIBLE clear hard alcohol very popular in China.


End file.
